


Jealousy

by lackluster_lexicon



Category: Avengers (Comic)
Genre: Fluff, Jealousy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-11
Updated: 2012-01-11
Packaged: 2017-10-29 08:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/318016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lackluster_lexicon/pseuds/lackluster_lexicon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve is jealous and Tony is clueless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jealousy

**Author's Note:**

> I just threw this together because someone on Tumblr (RDJinspiringlybeautiful) wants jealous!Steve, and I seized the opportunity to write something even though I don't actually know this person. (I'm an opportunist, what can I say?) And I only know how to write fluff, apparently, because that's totally what this turned into.
> 
> I'll try again when it's not 2 am.
> 
> Oh. Also, it's more comic!verse, though my knowledge thereof is sparse. It's definitely set after _Avengers Prime_ , though.

“Tony, what is this?”

Tony glanced up from his tablet to see Steve entering his living room with Tony’s mail. They alternated between staying at Tony’s penthouse and Steve’s apartment, and this weekend had been a penthouse weekend. The whole arrangement was delightfully domestic, somewhat to Tony’s surprise. He’d never expected to have anyone sleeping with him through the night, making him breakfast, fetching the mail – much less Captain America.

Funny how the world works.

“Mail?” Tony offered. But Steve was frowning, and that always did funny things to Tony’s innards. He couldn’t imagine what would be in his mailbox that would offend Steve, though. It was all junk and magazine subscriptions, anyway, which he only bought through those fundraiser charity drive things (“If you order one subscription, we’ll also send one to soldier overseas” kind of deal, and he was dating a solider to whom he’d introduced himself as a philanthropist, so how could he not?). All the important shit went through the company.

“Thank you, Tony. I mean _this_.”

Steve turned over a magazine, revealing the swimsuit edition of _Sports Illustrated_.

“Oh, that? _That_ is the pinnacle of sports journalism, right there.”

“Why is this one of women in swimsuits? Or _less_?” Steve added, tapping a finger against a tagline about body paint.

Ooh. Body paint? Is that what’s on the cover? Never would have guessed.

Wait, no. Steve’s still frowning. Tony lowered his tablet, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out where Steve was going.

“Because it’s been an _SI_ tradition since the sixties?”

Steve sighed and dropped the pile of mail, including the magazine, on the couch next to Tony.

“Okay,” he said curtly, dropping his eyes. He turned and started toward the kitchen.

Shit. Tony had clearly missed something somewhere. Steve wasn’t supposed to give up like that.

“No, wait, hold on!” Tony scrambled off the couch and dashed to Steve, taking his arm to turn him. Thankfully, Steve obliged, though his gaze remained diverted.

“Steve, look, it’s not as dirty as it looks, I promise. These are professional models – ”

Steve’s eyes squeezed shut. Whoops. Tony had missed the mark again.

“This isn’t about the women, Tony. I distinctly remember agreeing to disagree on how exploitative this stuff is.”

“…oh. Well, I’m apparently not picking up what you’re putting down here, so can we skip the back-and-forth part and get straight to what’s bothering you?”

Steve chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. Inhaled deeply. On the exhale, he opened his eyes and locked onto Tony’s.

“Are you happy?”

All Tony could manage was to blink. Rapidly. He might have quirked his head, too, but he wasn’t paying attention to anything but how his heart had just ninja-kicked his sternum.

Bless Steve’s heart, though. He waited, now determinedly maintaining eye contact, and Tony knew he’d crossed the point of no return. He almost regretted pushing the issue, but…this was Steve. Nothing bothered Steve unless it was important. Plus, Steve was important, which made the issue doubly-important, which made it worth pushing.

Maybe. Hopefully.

Finally, Tony cleared his throat.

“You mean, am I happy with us?”

“No, Tony, with the state of the union. Yes, with us. More specifically, with me.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you.”

“…should I take that as a ‘no’?”

“What? No! Shit. No. Let me try that again – ”

“Only if you’re going to honest.”

Ouch.

“Not that I think you would lie,” Steve clarified, “but I think you would hedge around whatever you really feel to make me feel better, and that’s not fair to either of us. You deserve to have your feelings heard. I deserve to know if those feelings match mine.”

“...that’s not how I learned it, but okay. Well, the part about my, uh…feelings. I agree with the part about yours. But I thought we were in sync here. Why would you think I’m not happy with you?”

Steve sighed again. If he kept this up, Tony was going to need a new new heart. Maybe he could reconfigure Extremis somehow to cut down on the fluttery-stomach, twittering-heart stuff. When it wasn’t in reaction to the good stuff, like Steve smiling just so or running his fingers through Tony’s hair or trailing his nails up Tony’s back, it was distracting.

“Maybe I didn’t word that right,” Steve said, bringing Tony back.

Right. Extremis could wait.

“I think I meant to ask if you…miss it. Them. Women. Your life before.” Steve gestured vaguely toward the couch.

… _ohhhhhhh_. That made a lot more sense.

“Steve.”

Tony gripped Steve’s shoulders and stepped in close. Steve lightly rested his hands on Tony’s waist, and Tony had to resist the urge to wiggle his hips to increase the contact. Steve was being careful, not because he was afraid of hurting Tony, but because he was afraid of losing him. It was clear to Tony now, so clear he could have slapped himself for not catching it sooner – and he’d had plenty of opportunities to catch it. Like that one night after some gala or other, when they had gotten separated and Steve had had to hunt Tony down only to find him surrounded by women and empty martini glasses, and Tony had maybe been a little too sloshed to notice that Steve was upset, but he had _definitely_ noticed how much rougher the sex had been that night. Actually…he probably should have figured out Steve was upset when he agreed to have sex with drunk-Tony in the first place.

Now that he was thinking about it, Steve had never asked how Tony had learned any of his tricks, how many partners he’d had, what his first time had been like or even when it had happened – nothing. Tony probably should have offered that information, but he knew he was clean and damn good in bed, and what else was there to know?

But Steve hadn’t neglected to ask; he’d refused to. And all this time, Tony had been chalking it up to his old-timer sensibilities.

“Steve,” Tony repeated. “Steven Grant Rogers, I haven’t considered bedding a woman since the day you kissed me back. Probably because I’ve been in lo—…er, in an imaginary relationship with you since before I _met_ you, remember?”

Steve’s lips twitched as he tried not to smile.

Oh, good. He remembered. And he didn’t seem to notice stumble.

“Do I still appreciate the female form, particularly those that are scantily clad? Of course I do. You know you do, too; don’t try to tell me otherwise. You know you enjoyed captive lesbian porn night just as much as I did, since we both know I couldn’t actually take you captive without the suit.”

Ha! That one got Steve blushing, and he was definitely smiling now.

“Plus, and you’ll probably find this lacking in taste – but I just mentioned porn, so maybe not – but anyway, you know you can’t deny this, either: you have awfully big shoes to fill. Only someone as egomaniacal as me could ever delude themselves into thinking they could compete with the original Captain America, and believe it or not, my ego’s plenty enough for me.”

“I think you mean for _us_ ,” Steve laughed.

“Case and point. Yes, _us_. Because it _is_ us, Steve, I swear. I waited too fucking long to get you in my bed, God damn it, and I’m not letting you go. And” – Tony’s voice cracked, and he had to clear his throat to finish – “I’m sure as shit not leaving you.”

A moment passed in silence before Steve tightened his hold on Tony, pulling him close and wrapping his arms around him. This time Tony sighed, clutching at the back of Steve’s shirt as he buried his face in Steve’s neck.

“And for the record,” Tony suddenly blurted, pulling away just enough so his words were clear, “I have yet to die on you, so if either of us should be worried about losing the other, it should be me.”

Tony bounced against Steve’s chest as he laughed.

“We need to work on that ego. Besides, I came back, didn’t I? I’m unkillable.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Neither is joking about either of us dying. Or, you know, anything about that whole registration act debacle.”

“Mm. You’re right. And you’re _so good_ at putting me in my place.”

Steve locked eyes with Tony again, who wiggled his eyebrows.

“…oh. You noticed that.”

“I notice everything, especially when it comes to sex. Especially when it’s sex with you. Especially when it’s _angry_ sex with you. Or, rather, from you, though I can't say I didn't enjoy it.”

“Jealous sex,” Steve corrected. “Angry sex would have been right after I rose from the dead last time. Or when we were in Jotunheim during that Twilight Sword mess. You were even already naked...”

Tony’s eyebrows leapt upwards. “ _Please_ tell me you wanted to.”

“I don’t think I could stay angry with you during sex,” Steve said with a laugh. "Or have sex when I'm angry, but I'm sure you'd find a way to talk me into it."

“Damn right I could. And I’ve pissed you off before; I’m sure I can manage it again. In the meantime, does this mean I have to throw out the magazine? Because if you let me explain why I got it in the first place, I’m sure you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

“If you keep it, you’re granting your consent to a long night of jealous sex.”

“…am I allowed to be excited about that?”

Steve hesitated, and Tony wished he could take the question back. _Why did he have to say these things?_

“Yeah,” Steve answered, and then he laughed a little when Tony’s jaw dropped.

“Well, okay, I’m jealous only partly because I worry about losing you. But I’m also jealous because I just want you too much. I want you all to myself. And if you could see and hear yourself when I take you like that, you probably wouldn’t blame me. Then again, with that ego of yours, you probably already don’t, but you know what I mean.”

Tony took a second to compose himself. Prospects for the rest of the night had just flashed before his eyes…

“You know,” Tony said, raising his head to brush his lips against Steve’s as he spoke, “your jealousy just got really, _really_ sexy.”


End file.
